


curiosity

by salts



Series: you, me, you [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 20:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7122145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salts/pseuds/salts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He forgets that you know him as well as your master does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	curiosity

He avoids you when he can, and you can't really blame him. It must be humiliating for a man as proud as him to see you, finally realizing that there's a third person when he believed it was a private affair. (It's a little amusing, actually; the man known for being in control, _craving_ control just _forgetting_ something so simple as the fact that you and your master are one and the same.)

No one notices, of course — with the possible exception of Boss, but if he does you think he's doing an excellent job of hiding it — because it's the Cloud Guardian, and he avoids pretty much _everyone_.

A week passes, and not once does he so much as look at you. You estimate he'll last about a month. Another week, and still there's no contact. You're not terribly worried. Weak three begins, and by the end of it you can feel his wrath coming to a slow boil underneath his smooth skin and tailored suit. The countdown begins.

Day five of week four, you're struggling to breathe — no thanks to the tonfa currently crushing your windpipe. You resist the urge to smile (predictable, _so_ predictable) and you relinquish control of your shared body.

... Or rather, you _would_ , but there's no one on the other side. You blink once in surprise before trying once more, because — quite frankly — you're becoming rather light-headed from the lack of oxygen. When there's still no response, you stare blankly at the man threatening to strangle you to death and raise your delicate, porcelain hands to remove the metal from your neck.

This has never happened before, not once in the ten years the three of you have been performing this pseudo-ritual, and you can see the veiled confusion that flashes across his face before he releases you. _Now_ , you smile. "Perhaps next time." You are just as perplexed as he is, but you're a liar first and foremost so he doesn't notice; you show nothing but what you want others to see, playing them like you're the Piper and they're the rats.

His expression darkens again, and you suddenly realize that simply because your master is somewhere else (you don't know where, and you likely won't care to ask when he returns) doesn't mean he is any less angry for it. You are not your other half, and you know you probably won't come out unscathed should you allow him to start attacking, so you do the next best thing —

— you step _forward_ , toward the barely-contained monster they call Hibari Kyoya, and gently rise to your toes to press your lips against his. It's unconventional, akin to diving headfirst into the a den of lions (and who in their right mind would do such a thing?), but you receive the reaction you knew you would; he freezes, his intent to kill placed on pause.

He forgets that you know him as well as your master does.

The surprise won't last for long, so you seize the opportunity to reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. It takes him longer than you anticipate for him to realize what you're offering to him, but you know he's accepted when you feel hands tentatively rest on your hips. (You refuse to laugh, though it's sorely tempting.) Your mouths come apart with a quiet _pop_ and you say, "I don't break _that_ easily, Cloud man."

You can see the uncertainty in his eyes — you're being _gentle_ with him, and he's only ever been able to associate their Mist with the worst of demons — so you lean up to kiss him again. "I've been curious for a while," you admit, "as to whether or not you _give_ as good as you _take_."

Then you smirk, and once again he remembers yet _another_ thing he's forgotten about you. (Your master has had more of an influence on you than he realizes.) You watch and you _learn_ , things that have long since removed the veil of innocence from your eye.

A small chuckle escapes your throat as you begin to undo his tie with almost-kind fingers, because you can see he's all-too-eager to fight in the way his jaw tightens and fists clench. "Patience, Cloud man." You pull his tie out and begin to unbutton his shirt, tracing a fingernail over the exposed skin of his taut neck.

He doesn't attack you, and you feel it's not because of any particular affection but out of some gross curiosity; which is a pity, you think, because didn't curiosity kill the cat?


End file.
